Promises Promises
by A lost lily
Summary: Sam made a promise to his brother. Can he keep his word the one time it really matters? Set after Season 3 finale.
1. Promises not kept

The trouble was that Sam believed it. With every fiber of his being, he thought that he was somehow going to get Dean out of the deal. They had been through rough times before, through jobs that seemed impossible and times when he nearly gave up, but Dean had always been the one to drag his ass to safety and he would be damned if he let his big brother down the one time he needed him. That was why, as the hours ticked closer and closer to Dean's own personal apocalypse, Sam never really let it sink in. He worried, of course, there were so many logistics to figure out, so many different plans to save Dean that it was hard to settle on just one, but that worry had never turned to the raw, ragged pain that would really come with the loss of his brother. Fear was healthy for Sam, because as long as it was present there was still something that could happen that would be worse. If Dean were dead, really and truly dead, the worst thing possible would have happened and fear would change to hopelessness.

He believed it the entire time, even as he traveled to find the bitch of a demon who held Dean's contract. He believed it so sincerely that he was prepared to stab a child, to maul an innocent girl in the arms of her mother if it meant that the thing that meant to rob him of his brother was gone too. Even when the hellhounds began to chase them, he didn't really think that it was over. There would be some loophole, or Bobby would come fully armed, or Sam himself would stumble upon the solution. Never did he really think that Dean was going to die.

Ruby being possessed by Lilith had been a minor shock, but that was nothing compared to being forced to stand helpless as creatures that he couldn't even see ripped his brother to shreds before his eyes. It hurt to see that, yes, it hurt a lot, but each agonized cry that Dean made meant that he still lived, and as long as Dean was still alive and wasn't shouldering down in hell, he hadn't given up on his promise.

It was only when the dust had settled and Ruby was laying dead next to his brother that he realized that Dean was too still. He was covered in blood and he looked to be d—

No. Sam thought. No, I had a goddamned year to get him out of that deal. I've promised him so many times, I've looked him in the eyes and told him that he wasn't going to hell. This can't be happening. He can't be…

Sam hadn't been hunting with his brother for as long as he had to not know when someone was dead though, and his brother was most assuredly dead. He felt the hot burn of tears as he sank down onto the floor next to his older brother, pulling Dean close and beginning to sob. Dean would have made some wiseassed crack, were he still here. Still really here, and able to think and feel instead of just laying there with that look of fearful resignation on his face. He would have called Sam 'Samantha' or told him to stop being such a bitch, and they would have laughed. God, how Sam would have loved to laugh at a joke at his own expense instead of crying over his fallen brother.

Bobby finally busted in, skidding to a halt as he saw the grizzly scene before him. Son of a bitch, he thought Sammy shouldn't be seeing this. Hellhounds are never gentle but this…this is excessive 

"Sam, come on, son." He rested a hand on top of the younger brother's shaggy brown hair, swallowing the lump in his throat before continuing. "He's gone."

"No!" The fierceness that Sam answered him with left him reeling, as though he had been slapped. It was the same tone Bobby remembered hearing exactly a year ago when he urged Dean to bury Sam, to eat, to do anything that smelled halfway normal and didn't leave Bobby worried about suicide missions. One thing was for certain, Winchester men couldn't say 'I love you' to one another, but they sure as hell could go off half cocked into situations to save the people they cared about, and if that wasn't love…

"Sam, he wouldn't have wanted—"

"Won't want," Sam insisted. "He's fine, Bobby, we're going to get him to a hospital and…" Hearing the tense silence, Sam glared tearfully at the older man. "I promised him, I swore that I wouldn't let him go to hell. I didn't lie to him. Bobby, I couldn't have lied to him." Sam's fingers felt at Dean's neck, knowing he'd feel a pulse, a weak one, but a pulse. He just knew that one had to be there, that somehow he'd get some sort of second chance to fulfill his promise, that he wouldn't let Dean down the one time that he really needed him.

There wasn't one.

"No!" He cried, clutching Dean's body harder as though the force of his will could bring his brother back again. "NO, Dean! DEAN!"

Bobby had only heard cries like that once before, the night that Dean watched his younger brother die. They were raw, dangerous, like the sorts of cries that you'd expect from an animal that was being tortured in the most painful way imaginable. Brothers were supposed to be close, anyone knew that, but these two were like mirror images, one lacking in something and the other having it in such an excess that it could be shared. Perhaps it was due to their unconventional upbringing, but Bobby always imagined that Dean probably was more of a father figure to Sam than John ever had been. The poor boy was losing both father and brother tonight, and on top of that, he had to know the details about where they both were, he had to be wondering if every hellish thing that they had ever destroyed, that Sam would ever destroy if he found the bravery to proceed with the life he and his brother had shared, would be waiting for him.

And then the something inside of Sam broke, something very human.

What was left was cold, and with a single minded purpose—he had to get Dean back.

He wasn't about to rush out to sell his soul, but there were other ways, more dangerous ways. While he had broken his promise to Dean, this wasn't about just keeping his word anymore, it was about protecting his brother in any way that he could. He couldn't keep him from going to hell anymore, but he could make sure that the time that Dean spent there was minimal, that he was home in a matter of hours, sooner if he could arrange it.

"I need you to watch over him." Sam told Bobby darkly. "Make sure that no one hurts him more, that nothing happens to his body. I'm getting him back, Bobby."

Resisting the urge to swear violently, Bobby shook his head. There was one Winchester alive, and Bobby was going to make sure that he stayed that way. "Sammy, I don't think…" One determined look from Sam Winchester stopped Bobby from saying what he had been about to say. He recognized the look because Sam came from a long and growing line of Winchester men eager to rush off unprepared and yet they were too bullheaded to see reason.

John.

Dean.

Damn it, was he going to have to arrange Sam's funeral now as well?

"I wish you would wait, let us think of some plan."

Sam brushed off Bobby's concern. "For every minute that I 'plan' he suffers there, Bobby." Sam gazed tearfully down into Dean's blank green eyes. For a moment he almost thought he heard his brother's panicked voice calling out for him. "I have to stop it."

Damned Winchesters. Bobby nodded, watching as Sam disappeared through the door. He'd find a way to make sure that nothing happened to Dean's body, and then he'd hunt Sam down to save his sorry ass. These boys were family, and family didn't end with blood.

"Shit,"he muttered, looking at the mess, and hoping that he could finish quickly here to go pitch in and help Sam. No doubt the boy was going to need his help quickly, going off on a suicide mission with only his anger and pain and a stupid knife to combat the bitch. "Shit shit shit."


	2. Hell?

Hell Dean had been prepared for. He had thought about it for the last year, making snide little comments to himself about hell being a glorified sunburn in TJ, made lewd jokes to Sam about how he'd make certain that he burnt next to some gorgeous blonde who was there for lustful thoughts, he even prepared himself for the fight that he knew was coming when he once again found himself face to face with all the evil sons of bitches that he and his brother sent back to The Pit. This, however…this he wasn't ready for.

The pain was to be expected, he had warned himself that whatever he was going to face when he paid his end of the deal was going to hurt like a bitch, but he was alone, there was no hellfire and brimstone, no fellow sinners or desperate deal-makers suffering along with him. There was no one. There were ropes, or chains….something that looked like an intricate spider's web, and pain, and a swirling green-gray mist that made it impossible to see anything. No, this wasn't hell, this was worse.

There was a flash of hope—if this wasn't hell, something was wrong with the deal. Something had not gone the way that it should, and perhaps there was a chance for him to get back to his normal life (at least, the closest that Dean Winchester ever got to normal) and back to Sam.

Sam.

"SAM!" Dean called out into the abyss. "Help!" He had been calling for hours, days, years perhaps, time seemed to drag and race by all at once. If he knew that college educated idiot lawyer that he called a brother, Sam was being a stubborn ass trying to find some way to save him from hell. Right now Dean would bet his car that Sam was going to pull off some exceedingly stupid idea to break into hell, or unleash the gates of hell, in order to free him, and Dean wouldn't be there. "SAMMY!" He felt weak and stupid, calling out to his baby brother like this. It had always been Dean's job to watch out for Sam, Dean to find the problem and fix it. Still, he didn't have much of a choice, and it was Sam's turn to save his ass. God, if he could just make the pain go away, or even just lessen a bit, there might be a chance that he could find a way out of this thing. He had to.

Knowing that he had done all that he could to protect what was left of Dean Winchester was hard for Bobby. He had done the best that he could with the limited supplies in the house. It was hard to pull off some hoodoo magic spell to keep a corpse from rotting away when all that you had was a normal house with a normal kitchen. Bobby's jaw clenched, unable to even think about things like that. For the moment though, Dean Winchester's body was as safe as a dead body could be, and now that he could do was wait.

"Sir?" His head whipped around at the timid female voice behind him, and he cringed at the startled noise that she made when she saw the bodies. "Oh my god, what happened?" Her eyes when wide 

when she saw one of the men who had just saved them laying there helplessly on the floor, and the blood, so much blood…

"That thing that was in your daughter hurt him." Bobby said honestly, knowing that there was little point to lie to her now when she had seen Lilith's power with her own eyes. Besides, he was counting on having the shelter of her home until Sam got back. If he got back.

Goddamned impulsive suicidal Winchesters.

The woman just nodded. "I…we….I have to get out of here. My husband and I, we have to leave. Our daughter…" She let out a strangled noise. "We have to get out of here."

Bobby watched as she too fled with little or no plan. At least she and her family were more likely to go spend the night at some hotel than to go hunting after something that would love to see them dead.

Damn it, Sammy, you'd better make it back here in one piece or I'll kick the shit out of you.

Sam's hand clutched the keys as he walked swiftly to the Impala. It was Dean's car, it had always been, and even if he never managed to get Dean back from Hell, it would always be. Sam would never see himself as a glorified caretaker to one of the great loves of Dean Winchester's life. As though the car somehow knew that it was not being driven by its rightful owner (and if you asked Dean, if you COULD ask Dean, he would likely tell you that the car was smarter than most people) it hesitated a minute before firing up to its powerful purr. "I'm going to fix this." He said, looking back at the stranger's house where his brother's body was laying. The possessed citizens of the town who had been standing on the lawn vanished around the time that Lilith did, and there was that to be thankful for, but Sam wasn't thankful. He was going to find her, he was going to hunt her, and he was going to kill her, but not before she brought his brother back.

The real question was why Lilith had not killed him. He had been reeling from watching his brother get torn apart, he would have been an easy target. Clearly she had tried when she held her hand out and there was the flash of white, but he still lived. Certainly that meant something. If she wanted to be, as Dean had so eloquently put it, "Queen Bitch" of the demons, she could have it, he certainly didn't want the post.

The car responded well when he made a quick turn, the wheels firmly gripping the road even when the contents in the car shifted. A half eaten double cheeseburger from the last fast food restaurant they had just been in rolled out from behind the driver's seat, hitting Sam's foot. Clearly Dean had been in a hurry when they got out, because he wouldn't have just littered on his car like this…it was after all his baby. There were so many firsts, and lasts to do with this car (including the Dean's last meal) that Sam knew he couldn't dwell on it, not if he wanted to remain productive enough to save his brother. He floored 

the gas, making the car race forward with such a speed that even Dean would have been a bit proud, were he here.

First, though, he had to find the bitch who killed Dean.

Swearing violently when he saw the flashing lights in the rearview mirror, Sam pulled to the side of the road. Evidentally first he had to deal with some Barney Fife of a Highway Patrolman, and then he would go hunting Lilith. Fan-fucking-tastic.


End file.
